


a midnight tale

by were



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - High society, Cinderella Elements, Con Artists, M/M, New Year's Kiss, Privileged Characters, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 15:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17470094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/were/pseuds/were
Summary: Theo infiltrates a high-society end-of-year party and finds himself as the Cinderella of the story. Except there's no glass slipper involved and it's really not all that extravagant.





	a midnight tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LI0NH34RT](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LI0NH34RT/gifts).



> uhh, i was... aiming for a cinderella twist story in 500 words...  
> jury is out on whether i aimed right or not.
> 
> also, happy new year 2019.  
> this is a third song drabble exchange piece with janna (@li0nh34rt). Her song prompt was [Five Minutes to Midnight by Boys Like Girls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kzPvzMPX4E&feature=youtu.be)
> 
> this drabble isn't beta'd. all mistakes are my own.

Ten. Ten minutes to midnight.

 

Theo stares at the reflection of people in the windowpane. He's so focused on them that he doesn't see the tire in his own face, the way he looks like he doesn't even want to bother finishing his drink, punch in a red plastic cup that matches the crimson decorations, mistletoe berries, the cherry chapstick Liam Dunbar is using at the moment.

Theo looks away, breaks his thoughts. He puts down his cup on a glass tabletop and checks the ornate clock across the room. He should be on the move now. Shaking off last-minute tension from his shoulders, he heads towards the twin arched stairs.

It's crowded upstairs. People are lost in each other's eyes and smiles and lips and laughter, waiting eagerly for the countdown. The only eyes that are watching him are the ones of the people in the expensive paintings. He navigates easily.

Theo counts in his head, counts the steps for him to get to the study room. There's no one when he gets there. No one wants to be near anything that reminds them of work or school during the break, he supposes. He leaves the door half-open, walks across to scan the book titles on the shelves, looking for hidden surveillance cameras. There's one attached to a clock, another across the room in plain sight, but he pretends he doesn't know they're there, calculates the blind spots like it's second nature. They are mainly aimed at the desk area.

Of course, there's no laptop on the old oak desk, no stray usb key either. He smooths over the faded golden lines that frames the surface and, looking up, he spies a copier, tucked in a lower shelf of the bookcase, right in a spot where the cameras miss by perhaps an inch. 

He gets on the job. He pops open the back with a screwdriver he had up his sleeve (everything is so much easier in winter attire), takes out the hard drive, studies it for a split second before he slips it up his other sleeve and lifts his sweater a tad to reveal a multitude of similar pieces stuck between the waistband of his briefs and his waist. He picks out an identical model and fits it into the printer effortlessly. The copier is replaced to its original place and Theo stands straight, still facing the bookcase.

He checks his watch. 

Five. Five minutes to next year.

 

He doesn't flinch when Liam speaks up from behind. "What are you doing?"

Theo turns around, feigning bashfulness, thinks maybe he could pull off the introverted scholar look, offers a sheepish smile. "Sorry. Books are quite inviting for me. I had to check the titles. The spines are beautiful." 

Liam narrows his eyes but soon scratches the back of his neck. He has a drink in a flute, and he takes a sip of it. "Oh. Didn't think I invited anyone who liked books. Last I checked it's a prehistoric hobby. This is my grandfather's collection."

Theo smiles briefly, coldly. Privileged people like Liam think books are for collecting. "Your grandfather's tastes were quite eclectic then."

"Yeah," Liam takes a drink, slow, maybe purposefully slow, "I wouldn't be able to tell if one of them went missing."

Theo watches carefully. Liam's left hand slides into a pocket. His other hand swirls the content of his glass once, twice, stops short. His eyes are trained over the titles, searching, looking for something that's not there, before returning to look at Theo.

"This is a great anthology to start with if you want to appear erudite to your friends," Theo points at a book. "My sister used to have it. The exact same edition too."

Liam picks it out and flips through its table of content. "Recommend me something in this." It's clear he's testing Theo.

"Bullet in the Brain. An Unwritten Novel. They're my favourites," Theo says, easily.

Liam's finger stops at the titles and slide across the page to find their respective page numbers. "Nice. I'll give those a read when I can." He looks at Theo with some kind of renewed interest. "So what do you do?"

"I freelance. Jack of all trades, master of none."

"That narrows it down..." Liam frowns. "What's your name?"

Theo smiles. "Isn't it etiquette to introduce yourself first before asking for someone else's name?"

"I'm Liam."

"I didn't ask."

"Huh," Liam's frown deepens.

Theo makes an effort to look away. "You've the time?"

Liam nods. There's a vintage piece of clockwork on a higher shelf that Theo knows of, since it comes with a camera, but he pretends he doesn't. Liam glances that way and gestures towards it. 

"A minute to midnight," he murmurs, eyes slightly dark. There's silence between them for a moment, and they listen, quite idly, tto someone down the hall talking about New Year kissing.

"I'm not a traditional kind of guy," Theo says, but makes the mistake of looking at Liam. He's instantly caught into the trap of Liam's intense eyes. 

"Traditionally I do it with people I know," Liam responds easily. He takes a step forward, and Theo takes one back and leans against the bookcase lightly. The copier's right at the back of his thigh, and it feels strange how he's so suddenly acutely aware of it. 

"It's inane," Theo states as evenly as he can. They're close. Close to the point that it's starting to get hard to see the whole picture. Somewhere along the way Liam deposits his glass on a shelf behind him. Then he starts to laugh nervously, as if mortified. The laughter feels different this close. It vibrates through Theo. He feels a little warm. 

"I'll take that as a no then?" Liam backs off. "Sorry then I—"

He's interrupted by people shouting numbers raucously. They started at nineteen. Who starts at nineteen? But the clocks tick in synchronization, the snow starts falling outside, hitting the floor at a forty-five-degree angle. The lights of the room dim automatically as if someone had set it to do that. The view outside becomes clearer. It's the view of the new year, dark and sombre but filled with little expensive night lights the colour of summer.

 

 

Ten.

Theo takes a breath.

Nine.

Liam leans forward but clearly hesitates.

Eight.

Theo can feel the hard drive slip against his forearm when Liam reaches up, brushes against his sleeve. His gaze locks with Theo's, and then he narrows his eyes and cocks his head.

Seven.

"There's something about you," Liam whispers through the countdown. Theo has to remind himself not to hold his breath. Reminds himself he needs to breathe.

Six.

"Unconventional, bookish, mysterious," Theo mutters, "it's the image I'm going for. No way I can sell well otherwise."

Five.

"But I'm not looking to buy," Liam counters.

Four.

"That's what they all say before they fall into the rabbit hole."

Three.

"Maybe falling is the better metaphor."

Two.

Theo barely gets to brace for it.

One.

 

Liam looks at him, in a stupidly longing way, at Theo's lips, back up at his eyes, then he mouths, _yes or no_?

Theo laughs noiselessly. They're seconds late, maybe even half a minute late. He waits it out as much as he can. See if the magic would disappear with the stroke of midnight. 

He closes his eyes and time stills before he leans in.

**Author's Note:**

> note: copier/old printer machines tend to have hard drives that have all the files that have ever gone through the printer. so if you printed sensitive information (passport, social security number, or worse) in the past, then you may be susceptible to data leak if someone decides to steal it. 
> 
>  
> 
> again, happy new year.


End file.
